So much of our lives are built on patterns.
Our homes are often familiar places that change slowly as we do. They reinforce the patterns we establish and make it easy to move through our days almost without thinking. This became clear to me after I returned to the apartment I’m staying in on Pilies Street in Vilnius, Lithuania. I kept mixing up which cabinet door belonged to the refrigerator, which belonged to the dishwasher, and which hid the trash. Where was the sugar? I’d find that the next morning. Which light switch turned on the lamps in the bedroom? I’m still guessing on that one.
The reason I bring this up is that one of the cool—and sometimes disturbing—things about travel is that it takes you out of your comfort zone. Some people love the “Oh, cool! This is new!” feeling. Others freak out about it. Most of us probably fall somewhere in the middle.
Before I left for my trip to the Baltics and Finland, I told myself to just roll with things. I meant that both literally—my apartment would force me into new patterns—and figuratively. A neighborhood might receive glowing reviews and turn out not to be my cup of tea. A restaurant might be highly recommended and leave me wondering what all the fuss was about. Or something might turn out to be far more wonderful than anyone’s description could have conveyed.
In other words: no expectations.
So, how’s that trip going?
I didn’t sleep a wink on either the MSP-to-AMS or AMS-to-VNO flights. So the fact that I slept for more than nine hours last night was very welcome.
I had a small snack before heading out for the day, followed by coffee and a pastry at the bakery/café Crustum. I walked in while Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart” was playing over the speakers. Next up, they continued the early-1980s theme with one of The Cure’s goth-rock songs. I forget which one. All the same, I think I’ll be stopping back here sometime while I’m still in Vilnius.
I had four objectives for the day: walk a fair amount, see the wooden houses in the Žvėrynas neighborhood, chat with Lee, and connect with Rebecca. (Many of you already know that Rebecca and I take one trip together each year, and at least one trip by ourselves as well.)
I got my walking in. I hoofed it for a little more than six miles, most of it along Gedimino Avenue, a shopping corridor that is also home to The Cat Café (a place I would stop for a Latte-Catte on my return to the apartment) and Caffeine, a Vilnius coffeehouse chain I did not feel particularly compelled to visit.
I spent some time in Žvėrynas, home to 108 nineteenth-century historic wooden houses and villas. I have to say, not one of the houses wowed me. But as I left the neighborhood, I zoomed out in my head and took a broader perspective.
I love seeing urban-planning experimentation and preservation. Thinking about how the structures, colors, and streetscapes might coordinate with their neighbors helped me appreciate what they were trying to do here. I also saw a few great vegetable gardens, so that helped engage me!
After zigzagging through the streets of Žvėrynas for a little more than an hour, I headed back “homeward.” I stopped for lunch at a pizza place where the waitstaff spoke some English, but not as much as I wanted them to.
This leads me to two things.
First, I was probably a frustration to the employees. I tried to ask whether the currency I was carrying was too large a denomination. Not only did my server not understand what I was asking, but when another staff person who spoke more English was brought in to help, the two of them seemed to agree that I was asking a rather odd question. “Of course not” was essentially the answer, and I think I heard them expressing some additional frustration—about me?—when they went back into the kitchen.
The second thing it made me feel was appreciation.
They spoke a lot of English, at least relative to my knowledge of Lithuanian, which is none at all. I bring this up because there are so many people in America who seem to think that other Americans who don’t speak fluent English are somehow dumb.
No!
They speak some English, just not as much as you want them to. But do you know any of their language?
When I traveled to Iceland, I knew next to no Icelandic. The same is true of the French-speaking countries I’ve visited. Same with German, Portuguese, and I’m sure I’m forgetting others. I remember one gelato server who could speak a fair amount of English, Italian, and German, in addition to his native French.
Now, I’m not saying I’m stupid. But compared with someone who speaks another language in addition to their native tongue, I am certainly less capable in that regard.
How dare we frown on people for not knowing enough English when we don’t speak anything but English?
Okay, off my high horse.
I did, in fact, return to the Cat Café. As I was shown to my table, I started reflecting on how the Žvėrynas neighborhood wasn’t everything I thought it was going to be.
But while I was walking its streets, I had told myself, “Michael, remember: you have no expectations for today. Just live it.”
And when the thought about Žvėrynas came back to me at the Cat Café, I immediately put it back in its place.
I also let other frustrations slide. There had been some frustration ordering the pizza, and some more when I discovered they didn’t have parmesan-cheese shakers. But I let it go.
Doing so, on both counts, made for a much better day.
I’m going to have to carry this with me—not only for the other days of this trip, but into as much of life as possible.
One other thing about the Cat Café: They were playing oldies in English. Del Shannon’s “Runaway” and Dean Martin’s cover of “That’s Amore” were just two of the songs. I know the café and the bakery/café I visited earlier in the day were probably playing music for the tourists. But good job by them for choosing good genres and periods!
After the Cat Café, I needed to head back to the apartment. Lee Urton and I had committed to talking with one another.
While we had already chosen this week’s Intellectual Roundtable questions—tomorrow’s, for instance, will be “What’s the story of your life?”—we also just wanted to keep up our weekly conversations.
Dang, Lee and I have a good friendship!
In addition to reviewing the questions for this week, I shared about my time in the Žvėrynas neighborhood. We both—from different perspectives—greatly appreciated the justice and charitable causes championed by Dolly Parton. Lee shared a bit from a devotional-type book he’s reading—today’s entry is about the categorical imperative. And we both talked more about other books we’re reading.
I just finished Michael Pollan’s A World Appears, a book about consciousness, and have now started reading Heather Cox Richardson’s Democracy Awakens.
Well, my friends, rain is in the forecast for tonight. That means I might not make it out to take pictures of the lit-up buildings.
The other thing on my agenda is to connect with Rebecca sometime before I call it a day.
I count today’s first full day in Vilnius a success.
